At Grief's End
by Ljiljana
Summary: From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity.   Edvard Munch


**Title: **** At Grief's End**  
**Pairing:** Itachi/Naruto

**Rating**: PG-13

**Warning: ****Angst. ****A lot of Sasuke – even though he's (!) dead.**

**A/N:** This story was written for wakasensei on Y!gall. Happy Birthday!

Beta's by aerae.

My first ItaNaru, likely somewhat ooc. ;D

**Disclaimer**: Naruto's author and publisher own it. Not me.

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**At Grief's End**

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**_From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity._****  
Edvard Munch**

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There is half eaten pizza on the coffee table and clothes scattered as if to make a bread crumbs trail to Sasuke's room on purpose. Itachi stops dead in the middle of the living room, just a little bit lost. Maybe in some other life, with another stack of stakes, he'd welcome the sight of brightly colored jacket hanging of the armrest of his couch. Maybe he'd give into temptation to set it straight or hook it up behind the door.

Naruto in his apartment is not good news, though. He'd hoped that the worst is over, that they wouldn't have to go through another episode.

Clearly, he had been wrong.

Naruto is in Sasuke's room, probably crying into the pillow and sniffing things that from a long time already smelled like softener and detergent. Maybe he's looking at photos, or going through remaining medication that's laying around, or going through Sasuke's books.

Or maybe he's just sleeping in Sasuke's bed and dreaming that Sasuke is still there to share it with him.

Itachi hesitates, with his hand on the doorknob.

Actually… He should have expected it. The first anniversary of Sasuke's death was only a month ago but despite the pain, it wasn't too hard to go through it. There are strictly determined rules of what you could do on that day to make it pass. It is July now. How do you celebrate birthday of a dead person?

Naruto must be in as much loss of what to do as Itachi is about it.

No, it's no wonder he's back. But he can't keep doing that. Something needs to be done.

Itachi lets go of the doorknob of Sasuke's room. He'll allow Naruto to soak in what he can for the last time tonight.

The decision is ripping him apart inside, but it has to be made.

Tomorrow, he'll make arrangements and start redecorating that room as soon as possible.

* * *

Naruto stumbles out of Sasuke's bedroom in the morning, wearing Sasuke's pajamas and a shirt Itachi is sure at one point belonged to him. Naruto's hair has grown longer since the last time he came. It's falling into his eyes and on his shoulders and if Itachi was easier to distract, he'd miss the embarrassed and apologetic smile Naruto's was offering.

"Sorry, I…" he rasps, voice coarse from the night of crying. "Sorry. Do you? Mind, I mean."

Naruto isn't as good at asking for permission as he is at apologizing. Itachi minds very much. It isn't healthy, it isn't right and it does nothing to help. But he doesn't ask for the key Sasuke gave Naruto a long time ago, he doesn't point out how appalling, red and swollen Naruto is looking.

"Not at all," he offers, pushing a plate loaded with breakfast food toward Naruto at the same time. "You're right on time."

"I am?" Naruto frowns suspiciously. It's a trait Itachi likes in him, how effortlessly open he is, how unproblematic is to read him.

"I have some plans. I could use help. Are you up for it?"

"Sure," Naruto agrees, because he's always so ready to help. Maybe Itachi should feel guilty for assuring that answer before mentioning what his plans are, but he doesn't. He isn't Sasuke after all. He doesn't know how to take Naruto's passion head on and win against it. "What are we doing?"

"Redecorating."

Naruto isn't half slow as he can be, and his fork hits the table with a loud clank as he asks, "Redecorating _what_?"

"Sasuke's room."

Itachi does his best, but his voice wavers. He doesn't want to redecorate Sasuke's room. He doesn't want to say his brother's name like that.

"No," Naruto says. "No. No, Itachi, you can't. I don't know what…"

He doesn't finish. Itachi tries to think about which colors to use on the walls and can't think about anything suitable. He thinks about what to do with Sasuke's bed and his closet. He tries to think of a better place to put Sasuke's books in. He wonders if Naruto wants some of the clothes.

All he comes up with is that he doesn't know what he will do if there wasn't Sasuke's room to cocoon in when the grief threatens to overwhelm him.

He closes his eyes, curses Naruto in a long steam of painful silent words. He wants his family back. He wants his brother to be alive. He wants to keep Sasuke's room intact.

"I know," Itachi finally answers. "We have to, though."

"No, we _don't_," Naruto stresses. "We don't have to. Please, don't do this."

Itachi keeps his eyes on his plate, because he doesn't want to see Naruto's desperate face.

"I've decided to redecorate Sasuke's room, Naruto. You're helping."

"I have work."

"You promised," Itachi reminds him. "And I need you to help deciding what to do with his things, anyway."

"I'll take them. I'll take everything."

"I'll let you take some of it, sure. I'll keep some things myself. But most of it, we will have to get rid of."

"Fuck," Naruto swears. His head is lowered.

Itachi wonders if he's crying, hidden behind the curtain of his bright hair.

"I hate you, you son of a bitch."

Itachi hates himself as well, so even if their reasons are different, he understands.

Naruto leaves in a huff after that, forgetting his jacket. He will come back as soon as the tears dry off, Itachi has no doubt.

If he meant not to, Naruto wouldn't have left in Itachi's shoes.

* * *

Later that morning, they go to pick a color for the walls.

Itachi wants white. Naruto wants something more lively, like orange or green or even blue, if it's a bright, happy shade. Itachi thinks how not every bright shade of blue is a happy color as Naruto lets his gaze linger on the sample palette of gray, searching for the color Sasuke had chosen once upon he time for his room.

He shrugs the urge to shake him out of it.

They end up with a compromise – Naruto chooses an odd, golden shade of orange for two walls, Itachi picks cream-white for his two walls. The room might turn out ugly, but that doesn't matter. It's not about that.

Sasuke would say that there is no way he'd ever stay in a room the two of them painted… But then again, he said something like that about the conformer Naruto brought with him one day and also for the picture frame Itachi bought his for his birthday and both became an essential part of his room in a matter of weeks.

Naruto attempts to act like himself, chatting with a clerk. His smile is too wide, his eyes are too shiny and his voice is too high. The clerk insists Naruto take his number in case he isn't satisfied, which is a terrible pun and so obvious Itachi actually feels his mouth curving toward a smile when Naruto misses it completely.

When he's not looking for it, Naruto could miss an elephant crossing his path.

* * *

They sit for a while at the table, later that day. The excuse is that they are eating lunch, only there is nothing left but crumbs on the table before them. Naruto is quiet, as if scared that his voice might break the procrastination. He's probably right.

So they sit there for another hour, across from each other. Itachi is busy gazing at the wall across, and there he can see his brother on his first day of school, on graduation day, the first time he snuck back home after midnight, the day their parents had the accident. Occasionally, Naruto makes small distressed noises Itachi is sure he isn't aware of. He's frowning just before a ghost of a smile crosses his lips, obviously going through a whirlwind of emotions just like Itachi - and he will go blind if he doesn't do anything with all that hair that's in his eyes.

"Come on," Itachi says.

Startled, Naruto looks at him. There is betrayal in his eyes, like they haven't gone through it already. But he follows Itachi to Sasuke's room without a protest.

For such a Spartan looking room, there are too many things in the drawer, in the closet and in the box under the bed. They drag out everything they find – armfuls of clothes, including socks and underwear, the guitar under the bed Sasuke had mastered and deserted sometime in high school, a load of Handgunner magazine issues, old notebooks and books, CDs and... Naruto snickers, placing a stack of half-empty bottles of shampoo and other hair products on top of the pile.

It's a little easier to breathe in Sasuke's room after Naruto's involuntary amusement on the expense of Sasuke's hair-care. Itachi can almost smile back.

He decides to keep some of the notebooks together with the books. Naruto packs more clothes than he will be able to carry. Neither have any use for the guitar so even though Naruto protests loudly, they decide to give it away.

There is a box near the door, for all the things they are going to throw out. Naruto is glaring at it with distrust, like he is expecting it to catch fire all of the sudden. Itachi is sitting on purpose so he can't see it – it's almost full already.

It's late when they finish and Naruto announces that there is no point in him going home. Itachi wishes he decided that before they pulled Sasuke's bed apart but he says nothing and Naruto simply crawls into his bed after finishing with the bathroom.

Once Itachi is done being stunned, he gets into the bed as well. Naruto is snoring, laying on his stomach with an arm across Itachi's part. It takes some maneuvering before there is enough place for Itachi to lay down. He spends some hours after that looking at the patterns the light from the street lamp is making on the ceiling, telling himself that he _is_ comfortable flat on his back, as away from Naruto as possible, that he isn't enjoying someone else's presence in his bedroom and that he doesn't feel any better about Sasuke being dead with Naruto's muttering in his sleep next to him.

For a minute or two, just before he finally drifts off to sleep, he maybe even believes it.

* * *

Three days and they are done. Sasuke's room… isn't Sasuke's any longer. It looks different. It _feels_ different.

Naruto gives it one last look, eyes sad. He doesn't look lost, though. He doesn't look like he has no idea what to do with himself without that false sanctuary.

It's a really good thing.

Naruto closes the door for the last time. They had no time for laundry, so he's wearing Itachi's clothes. He's taking with him so much of Sasuke's, it should be more logical to wear that. Naruto doesn't want to and Itachi hates to think what he is planning to do with all that clothes if not to wear it, but he doesn't ask.

"I'll bring these by in a couple of days, okay?" Naruto says, perhaps noticing what Itachi is looking at. "You're going back to work, though, right? So I'll stop by in the evening."

"That's alright," Itachi answers. He means that Naruto doesn't really have to return the year-old muddy green shirt and chino pants, if he doesn't feel like coming back. It's okay if Naruto take it as simple acceptance, though. The apartment that always seems too silent this past year is never quite as intensely empty as after a visit from Naruto.

It would be the same if it was anyone else, Itachi is sure. It isn't that the apartment feels especially empty because of Naruto's absence; it's just the weirdness of violently interrupted solitude.

"See you, then," Naruto says, hands full of plastic bags loaded with clothes. He is looking sideways at Itachi as he crosses those few steps toward the exit – making sure he is leaving him still in one piece, waiting for an answer or maybe even expecting something else, something more.

It's entertaining to try and figure out what goes through Naruto's head, Itachi muses as he stands in the middle of the hall, seeing him of. Naruto flashes one last smile, closes the door behind him. It's entertaining to try to read his behavior because Itachi is not that good at it – when it's unrelated to Sasuke's death, anyway.

He is finally free to use his bed, without fear. He knows that if he goes to sleep now, he will wake up in an ungodly hour and stare into nothing waiting for dawn, but it doesn't make a difference. It's staring into nothing now or later, when it comes right down to it.

Itachi is looking forward to going back to work in the morning.

His steps when he walks toward the bathroom are louder than ever. Echo is deafening. The meowing of neighbor's cat is so clear, coming through the wall, that she could as well be living with him.

Itachi opens the window to let the sounds of the outside's life in before starting to get ready for bed.

* * *

With Sasuke's room exorcised, it's a different matter to invite someone over. When Itachi pays deliberate attention to his redhead colleague's overdone flirting, it's mostly because he doesn't want to go back home and spend another evening alone, though. It's nothing to do with any physical needs he might be having.

It's been a week since Naruto left. He never came to return Itachi's clothes.

He never even called.

Itachi invites his colleague home. As she excitedly agrees, a little flushed and asking him to wait until she just goes to the toilet for a moment, he tells himself that it's for the best she's a woman. Sasuke kept all females at bay with carefully built precision. She won't trigger anything; her presence in the apartment would be as new as golden-orange walls.

In the end, it turns out that the comparison was wrong. The walls feel right, like a natural process, like part of the apartment and Itachi's life. She feels like a confused stranger who mistakenly wandered in there and couldn't find the way out. Her heels are too loud – until she takes them off. Then, she's too quiet. Too soft. Too happy. Too fucking unimportant to make a difference.

But she murmurs that it was amazing – even though it wasn't – and she drifts to sleep on the exact same spot Naruto tended to unconsciously claim in the middle of the night, so maybe it's alright. That little tendency of hers relaxes him enough to sleep.

It's weird, isn't it, that he finds reassuring _those_ little things he sees in her; the little things that remind him of his _dead brother's lover_.

Half asleep, as he is when it pops into his head, Itachi doesn't forget that thought in the morning. And a week later, he isn't too alarmed by it to miss a chance and take home a guy with bright blue eyes, whom he meets in the line for coffee.

* * *

They don't become a habit, those one-stands sparkled by some vast need Itachi refuses to name. He feels he's being as fair as he possibly can – no promises mean nothing to break; no letting them into his life means they never find out they are only there to substitute for something that is out of his reach, something as forbidden as the damned Eden's fruit.

They don't become a habit, not exactly, but they happen occasionally. Itachi carefully ignores the nagging thought that wonders what Sasuke would think of it all. What he would say. What he would feel.

Not that Itachi would ever tell him something like 'I think I might be pinning after Naruto'. That would be inappropriate. It would be going against what he promised to himself when their parents died – that he would put Sasuke first, always.

He ignores the nagging thoughts of that sort because they strive to develop into a debate.

It starts with him realizing, yet again, what he wants.

_You are _not_ scavenging. Naruto is not a thing. He has his own free will. _

He is _Sasuke's._

_Sasuke is dead. Yes, it's very sad. Yet, it hurts when you breathe for having to do it without your little brother who was everything in the world to you, but you know who understands better than anyone? Naruto. It's only logical you'd want him around, of all people. _

He is grieving, too. I don't want him to have to deal with my revolting desires.

_They're not revolting. You always liked Naruto. Between the new connection you two have and dormant care that was always there that you're still trying to deny, this development is perfectly normal…_

The problem with that debate is the side that is trying to convince Itachi to call Naruto is clearly winning whenever he, distracted by something, lets it run free for a few seconds.

He can't do that. Obviously.

Even though he really wants to.

So it's random people with bright smile, or bright eyes, or bright hair, or bright personality – and it's never all of the above, it's rarely even more than one of those characteristics. It would impossible to find another Naruto. They have to do as imperfect as they are.

It's not a habit. But the very fact it's happening is source of guilt.

Even after many months from when Naruto was helping him with redecorating, moving noisily around the apartment feels like yelling in the library, inappropriate and not allowed. Neighbor's cat seems to be mewing for something every waking hour he spends home. It wasn't like that for quite some time before those three days.

Refusing to name the feeling doesn't mean anything in the end. Itachi knows somewhere inside that he is very, very lonely.

And dwelling on guilt is better than drowning in loneliness on any day.

* * *

When he sees Naruto for the first time after those three days they spent redecorating, it's many months later, by accident.

Fog is thick and heavy on lungs that evening; it's February. End of winter, when cold like it's this year, always makes people turn desperately to their last resort. It's too cold for new loads of fire wood, but the coal mine is just out of town. It is forbidden to use, because it create smog that with the wet riverside air makes people sick. But in February, they let people burn it.

It's either that or let them freeze to death.

The night is cold, but there's is no more snow. It's not slippery, just wet. Itachi is meeting his boss at a bar he's never been to before. They are on friendly terms – if you call friendly the 'I see your potential and am therefore talking to you where people can see that I am not afraid that you will take my place' inspired conversations. Itachi has every intention of taking his boss' spot and he has very good chances of getting it before the year ends. Just because he needed some time to get back on track…

He walks around the murky puddle, crosses the sidewalk toward the clearly marked entrance in a hurry to get off the cold. Behind him a car doesn't slow down as they run through the puddle he just avoided. The tire splashes dirty rain remains. Some of it ends up over the shoulder of Itachi's coat and he stops, startled.

The door before him opens just as he glances back at the car that is rushing away. There is nothing he can do short of running after them and yelling obscenities, so Itachi decides that it would be most advantageous if he simply went to bathroom to clean it up while it's fresh.

But as soon as he looks forward again, every pragmatic idea flees his head. Naruto is standing right before him, mouth ajar and hand keeping door to the bar open. He smiles then, wide, happy; so like the old Naruto that Itachi responds with a smile of his own without hesitation.

"Itachi!" And oh, God, he is loud - a hurricane, a thunderclap, force of nature with that brightness tossed in to upgrade it to national phenomenon.

"Naruto. How you've been?"

"Oh, good," Naruto says, a little less enthusiastically."It's still hard sometimes, you know, but…"

Itachi knows what Naruto means by it, what he doesn't say. It's hard, sometimes, but it rolls on. The morning comes and all choices come down to stay in bed or get up. Itachi gets up and Naruto does it as well.

And then one day you just forget that there is a choice at all.

"And you look really good," Naruto is saying and Itachi reinforces his focus. It must look like he found something alarming in Naruto's words, for Naruto widens his eyes. "Er. Haven't seen you around here before."

"I'll take it you're here often, then?" Itachi says. Below the indifferent voice he is trying hard, he is mapping everything that happens on Naruto's face.

"Yeah, a friend is working weekends, it's not expensive… Nice place."

"I'm meeting someone," Itachi says and then, just because Naruto bites into his lip, "Join us."

"I… Well, who are you meeting?"

"My boss. It's some sort of semi-business meeting."

Naruto laughs, "So big companies really do sign all their contracts half drunk and with a naked chick in lap. I knew Sasuke was a freak, every night staying in the office past hours…"

He realizes what he is talking about and stops, startled and fearful, but it's done.

It's done.

Itachi feels a little dizzy. He asks, trying to look like he is attempting to stay serious while he is actually trying to stay on his legs, "How do you know there wasn't nudity involved in his afterhours staying?"

"Oh, I _know_ there was," Naruto says, slyly. Itachi stops breathing but it is only a single inhalation he misses. Old self-defense techniques die hard – like old habits - even if they are a little rusty. "If you're sure I won't be a bother…? I haven't seen you in so long."

A bother…? Ah. "No, not at all. We are not meeting to work, meeting itself is the point."

He leaves it at that, despite Naruto's obvious curiosity. He is actually interested in what Naruto will make of Kakuzu.

They walk in together.

* * *

It's a good night.

Naruto takes Kakuzu's group of friends by storm. He knows the waiter well enough that he doesn't even have to bother ordering his drinks. They just keep coming.

He's sitting across the table. He kicks Itachi when he wants his attention – which is often, all the time. Sometimes, they even share an understanding glace that people who know each other well often do.

It's like Naruto is _his_ ex, not Sasuke's, Itachi thinks after his seventh Hot Rum Chocolate. It's so easy to forget the alcohol is a part of the drink when it's mixed well and the rum is of good quality. He should be too old to get drunk on a few cocktails, but that is what happens when you only have alcohol about once a year.

But Naruto still feels _his_, especially when he kicks too hard to make sure Itachi is listening to the joke someone just shared and grins across the table. Itachi thinks it would be fun to see the reaction if he kicked back and then wonders if Sasuke was like him on cocktails all his life. Because he knew that his brother would never let Naruto do that – not without kicking back.

Well, now it feels again like Naruto is Sasuke's. Or maybe that waiter's, if the huddled way they talk to each other is anything to go by.

Itachi thinks he might be brooding when he refuses to talk altogether.

Soon, he works himself into a bad mood.

Jealousy. That was one ugly thing that was supposed to disappear with Sasuke.

_So you admit… _

Some self-preservation techniques, like cutting off certain thoughts, die even harder than old habits. Itachi excuses himself smoothly, takes his coat – which he never cleaned – and leaves without looking at Naruto.

* * *

Two days later, Naruto shows up to his office. That is after Kakuzu questions Itachi three times about what Naruto is doing for a living and offers three different positions. _He is really good with people_, is the explanations. _With a little training, he could sell my grandmother. _I_ can't sell my grandmother, Itachi. I'll give you a nice bonus if you get me that boy. _

Itachi doesn't tell him that all Naruto would agree to would be to make tea and read his grandmother newspapers, because he is too kind to even think of selling people, not in that many words. He does tell him that Naruto works for the Mental Research Institution and to the best to Itachi's knowledge, adores his job.

So when Naruto shows, he first must deal with Kakuzu. He is just barely polite as he refuses the job – all three jobs. Kakuzu promises that he wouldn't give up, which earns him a dark glare.

Itachi nods his head toward his office and leaves it to Naruto to follow or escape.

Brave and foolish, Naruto decides to risk and spend some more time there.

"What's his deal?" he asks after visibly having to restrain himself from snapping the door closed. It couldn't be just the conversation outside, could it? After all, even though pushy, Kakuzu didn't go that far.

"Kakuzu has a very good nose for potentially good salesmen," Itachi explains. "He sees potential in you. All offers he gave you are legit."

"I don't want to waste my life on selling faulty medication," Naruto sneers. Itachi is waiting for him to realize that he insulted everyone in the building, including Itachi, and regret his words, but it doesn't come. He is intrigued.

"Of course not," Itachi says when Naruto keeps looking at him with that sneer that really doesn't belong on his face. "Who in their right mind would?"

Naruto winces then. And it's not regret, it's – a violent disappointment.

Ah. He was expecting Itachi to react like Sasuke would. He expected a fight.

He came here to have one.

"Not that I'm not pleased to see you, Naruto," Itachi says making very sure he sounds like that is a big fat lie, even though it isn't, "but do you have any reason for it?"

"Obviously, I'm here to see you, you cold-blooded, stuck-up _snob_," Naruto keeps sneering. "What's gotten into you the other night? You just _left_."

"So?"

"So,_ you_ invited me among those people – who were boring like a bunch of old ladies, by the way – and then you left me among them, just like that! Didn't you think I wanted to leave, too? It was awful!"

Itachi takes time to contemplate his words. Naruto looked like he had a lot of fun the other night. It was why he had to leave, after all.

Kakuzu is right, and usual. Naruto would be a good salesman. Especially if he was selling himself.

"I didn't realize," he offers as an apology. "You seemed like you were having a good time. I was tired."

"Drunk, you mean," Naruto amends. He crosses his arms and narrows his eyes and Itachi, without a single Hot Rum Chocolate to blame it on, gets that feeling again. The feeling that he knows Naruto. The feeling that this, this _conversation_ actually belongs to him. The feeling that Naruto is worried and pissed off at him because _he has the right to be_.

"A little," Itachi allows. "Because I was tired."

"Alright, fine. But it was rude, okay? I thought you might be angry at me, actually."

"For continuous kicking under table?" Itachi dryly asks.

Naruto flushes beautifully, "You said it was a business meeting! It wasn't going to be successful at all with if you drowning in hot chocolate, you know. You ought to be thanking me for it."

"Thank you, Naruto. Walking around with a bruise on my calf is exactly what I wanted to be doing this week."

Naruto ignores the jibe, "How do you do it, anyway? How do you make all these people working for you respect you when you drink chocolate in public?"

"Easy. I don't work with stupid people who would think that is something to disrespect their boss over."

He likes sweets. He's always liked it. He liked it enough to cover for Sasuke's complete and baffling lack of taste for sweets.

Naruto, who came to his office with intention to fight, glosses over the insult like it's well known wallpaper on the living room's wall.

"Well, alright then. If you're not angry or something like that," he said. "Is it lunch time? D'you want to go get lunch?"

"With you?" Itachi says before he can stop himself. It is indeed lunch time. He wants to go out and have lunch with Naruto, who would talk and eat messily and laugh.

"Of course, with me," Naruto laughs as if to confirm the thought. "Come on, you can use a walk. You've gained weight."

He's gained weight, yes. He is finally stopping to look like an anorexic patient in a psychiatric institution. And Naruto noticed, of course.

Itachi goes with him. They have lunch. It's cold outside. The gyros sandwiches they buy are hot and good.

Naruto stalls him, telling him just this one more thing at least four times.

Itachi is late for work for the first time since Sasuke was sick.

Next week, same day, Naruto shows up at the office again. He sneaks past Kakuzu, behind a potted plant, a desk and a couple of amused people, grabs Itachi and repeats all that backwards. They eat, Naruto talks and laughs and Itachi is late for work again.

After the third time, it's tradition.

* * *

Itachi stops seeing random people. He doesn't need them. The apartment doesn't feel as empty, even though it's emptier than ever.

It's almost two years since Sasuke died. Three and a half since he got sick.

It still hurts so much.

So having Naruto around helps, but it doesn't mean Itachi will let himself slip. Naruto is still _Sasuke's_, even when he doesn't feel like it.

He is still just as unavailable as always.

Two years. Three and a half.

One night, after Naruto brings something called Nougat Swiss Rolls that turn out to taste like something invented to make people like Naruto moan with a mouthful of it and people like Itachi want more for dinner and breakfast the next day, he falls asleep early, feeling exceptionally good.

And then he's dreaming, because that ugly statue of baby angel in the back yard of his grandfather's house collapsed a long time ago and so it couldn't be up there again. Not outside of a dream.

"Itachi."

It's been two years and he's never dreamed about his brother. Not once.

It's a really good dream.

Itachi turns so he could see his brother, who is standing beside him, looking at the statue of the angel. He looks like he did at his best, in mid-twenties. Before the illness. When he just met Naruto and they were inseparable like limb and torso.

"Sasuke," Itachi says. It's a dream, so his voice should be steady. It isn't.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Sleeping." Itachi wonders if his real heart is as fast right now as he is dreaming it to beat.

"I'm affronted," Sasuke states, not a hint of accusation in the words. "It's been two years."

Sasuke is still looking up at the stupid statue, but Itachi is not taking his eyes off him. He takes in, drinks on every detail, every similarity and every change. He has difficulties following the words and he sees exactly when annoyance flashes over Sasuke's features.

He catches up, "What exactly are you affronted about?"

"You're using me. It's unsettling. Like someone is trying to rape my corpse. Since when did you use excuses?"

Itachi then sees what is going on. Of course, this being a dream, he wasn't expecting it to really be his brother. But it is fifty-five kinds of disgusting that it isn't even about his brother at all.

It's about Itachi. It's about what he wants from Naruto.

"How long do you expect him to stay around?" Sasuke continues, as if unaware of Itachi's utter self-loathing.

"Until he stops missing you."

"Itachi," Sasuke sighs and turns to look at him for the first time. And maybe, Itachi thinks looking those eyes and swallowing hard, maybe it's really Sasuke. "I'm insulted for Naruto now. It's against everything he is and everything he represents to use someone like that. To use _you_ as a replacement."

"You're right, of course," Itachi confirms, because Sasuke – dream vision or not – is right. "If he was aware of what he's doing, he wouldn't."

"You're turning into me," Sasuke says, amused. "Is it some sort of misguided tribute?"

"Excuse me?"

"You warned me once not to underestimate Naruto. But now you're talking like he is a slightly retarded child who doesn't know his own feelings. If anyone is doing something unconsciously, it's you, not him." Sasuke pauses for a moment, then says, "Do I really have to go over all this? Can't you just wake up, invite him over and…?"

"That is not going to happen."

"Of course not. We established already that you're channeling _me_."

They both fall silent. Itachi wonders if he should ask if there is heaven, what it like is. If Sasuke meet their patents. If he was well, happy.

He doesn't want to, just in case the answer is no.

"Think about it. You can at least try. Worst case scenario, Naruto says no. At least that way you can move on," Sasuke glances at the angel statue again. Itachi follows his gaze involuntary and sees that it's collapsing. "Best case scenario, you get a chance to do right by him where I couldn't. Your patience is perfect counter for his hotheadedness. He really needs someone to care about, Itachi. He keeps losing people."

The statue isn't there any longer. Neither is Sasuke.

Could have that metaphor been any less cliché? Itachi wonders when he wakes up.

It's two in the morning. It takes him awhile to get back to sleep.

* * *

Next week, when Naruto goes through his complicated dance of avoiding Kakuzu, he has Nougat Swiss Rolls with him again. One look at Itachi's pleased and he laughs, "I knew you'd like that. I'm getting worried, though – your teeth are gonna rot if you keep eating that much sugar."

It makes sense. It means that Naruto knows him very well. It means that Naruto, just as he said, worries about him.

Itachi feels he is making a good decision.

"You're right, we should eat something first."

Naruto, who just sat down, jumps up on his feet instantly when Itachi rises. "Sure. Where we're going?"

It's warm outside, late spring. But Itachi takes his thin jacket with him anyway. He says, "I don't know. Your place?"

Naruto freezes. Itachi waits his out.

"But – there's no food there. I can't cook."

That excuse is really weak. Unconvincing.

"I can," Itachi pushes him. "We can buy what we need on our way."

Naruto is still standing next to Itachi's desk. When Itachi reaches for the knob, he says, "Itachi?"

It's a question, it's uncertainty and it's – a knot loosens up in Itachi's stomach – it's hope.

"You have a better idea?" he asks, looking back with a smile he can't, doesn't want to hide.

And Naruto grins at him, bright and happy, "No. No, that's perfect."

He walks through the door Itachi is holding open for him. Itachi follows just in time to hear Naruto telling his secretary, "He's not coming back in today."

Karin looks at him, asking for confirmation. Itachi nods his confirmation.

Naruto is right. He wouldn't be coming back to work that day.

end


End file.
